Angels to Some
by Iggy Lovechild
Summary: They are drawn to each other, but can passion overcome the darkness that dwells in Albel's heart? Can chinks be found in his armour or will their desire be eclipsed by fear and misunderstanding? Alfay
1. Chapter 1

_These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Square/Enix and were created by a bunch of nice folks at Tri-Ace. _

_**"Angels to Some"**_

I can feel his glower at my back; suspicious prickling of the skin on the back of my neck warns me that if I glanc behind me, my eyes would find his scarlet gaze. My stomach churns with anxiety. I know if I did dare to look back, he'd hold my gaze unwaveringly. Calling him out on it just made him huffy or, worse, malicious in a way that might have been playful if we could be called friends.

Could Albel and I ever be friends?

He's so strange. Sometimes I feel like two people are struggling for dominance of his personality. Sometimes I can understand why Nel went white with fear when we first encountered him. Other times I feel as though he's just misunderstood, poorly socialized, and desperate for human contact.

Nonetheless I am drawn to him, and it is consuming me.

I have been reckless in my secret thoughts. Albel is dangerous and I am incapable of resisting this fascination. He is pulling me in, I know I shouldn't let him, but never in my life have I ever longed to know somebody this badly.

XxXxX

We're sharing a room in Peterny. Albel could have had a room to himself, considering the odd number of our party, but he claimed that he wanted to spar with me in the morning before we go off to face the Marquis. This way, all he'd have to do is roll out of bed and get me awake.

He is meticulous in laying out his space. His sword in its scabbard is hung on the bedpost, within reach, as thought he expected danger to strike at any moment. Albel strips off his clothing without shame and though I've seen plenty of skin revealed in locker room settings, this is far different from those innocent days. He's not a teammate to pat on the back and say, 'You played great out there, man.'

I can't help but stare. He's too thin for his height; he could stand to gain ten pounds, yet he's not skin and bones. Sinewy muscle beneath pale skin tempts me. For the moment I imagine what he would feel like under my hands, that sleek, pallid body shivering under my fingertips. A flush creeps up my throat. These thoughts are a bit new to me. I am no innocent, but I have never felt such lusty feelings before.

A part of me always kind of figured I'd end up with Sophia. I'm starting to wonder if things aren't so simple as that.

"How old are you, fool?" Albel asks suddenly.

"I'm nineteen, why do you ask?"

"You're blushing like a maiden, but surely you've seen another man's body before," Albel scoffs scornfully. "What's your problem?"

"Ah, nothing. Sorry. You know...you should eat more."

"What nonsense. I eat when I'm hungry. That's enough."

I snort softly, distracted from the latent eroticism of the situation by Albel's combative nature. "I rarely see you take in anything substantial. That's not healthy.

Albel is silent for a moment before replying. "That may be so, but meat is a luxury for my countrymen, and I won't indulge myself while Glyphians subsist on stale bread and shriveled vegetables."

I sit in stunned silence. Perhaps I had expected Albel to mock the indulgences of rich foods, like some kind of perverse warrior monk, but I certainly didn't expect him to imply that he was fasting out of respect for the people he was fighting for. He is a brutal man and most definitely a nationalist, and though hated and feared by most Aquarians, he is admired by many Glyphians. It is easy for me to forget about the war and even the grayer areas of said war. I'm starting to wonder if those old-timers are right about the evils of virtual reality twisting the minds of the young and impressionable.

"I'm sorry," I sigh softly.

"You're being foolish. Where there is a struggle for power, there is always suffering for those not directly involved," Albel explains dismissively. "Surely you understand. No matter where you come from, there's always war."

"There is," I admit, "but it's different where I'm from. Very few actually witness the wages of battle or even know how to use a weapon."

Albel glowers at me, his hand on his hip, a common gesture made oddly titillating due to his state of undress. "That's preposterous! What about you? You're not a soldier, yet you are quite formidable."

I flush faintly. How am I going to explain this? "It's...complicated."

Albel scoffs, "Whatever. I suppose that explains your exceedingly pacifistic demeanor."

I feel embarrassed, wishing I could understand the strife that I have been seeing since Cliff and I crashed on Elicoor. Yet I know it's simply not to be. Can this rift ever be overcome between us? When will I have seen or experienced enough brutality to understand Albel's world of dominance and power?

"Can I trust you not to talk?" Albel asks suddenly.

"What?" The question surprises me.

He stares at me blandly, and I'm thrown off guard. I quickly recoup. "Sure, why?"

Without another word he begins to remove his gauntlet. I have never seen him without it, nor has anyone else in the party. There were rumours, of course, but I didn't expect to see metal underneath. It dawns on me that I am looking at an archaic, but very functional prosthetic limb.

My jaw drops and Albel glowers. I can't help myself and I get up from the edge of my bed and go to him.

"That's amazing!" I keep my hands to my side though I badly want to touch it. The part of me that is still somewhat afraid of Albel stills my itchy, curious fingers.

Albel looks as surprised as I've ever seen him. He sits down on his bed and scowls. "Surely you're joking."

"Not at all!" I reply as I take the huge risk of sitting down next to him. "This is far beyond any technology your continent. Who made it?"

I can't help but study it, amazed by the seemingly seamless continuation of metal where the flesh stopped several inches above his elbow. Obviously the surgical procedure had been quite sophisticated.

Albel's gaze becomes guarded once more as he studies my face. He's looking for mockery or guile and not finding it. This seems to flummox him and it doesn't take a genius to figure out how much this is bothering him. I suppose he's used to more freaked out reactions, but how could anyone not be impressed after seeing how mobile the prosthetic was?

"A man from Greeton," Albel replies tersely.

I forget myself as curiousity wins out over good sense. My fingers lightly caress the cool metal, and I note the slightly rough texture of it. There is rune at the elbow, which I examine carefully. It vaguely reminds me an energy symbol, which can be used in many different ways. In this case, I have a feeling it's being used to connect to Albel's bioelectricity. It would also explain his ability to throw energy from it. Albel had just managed to learn how to turn it outward. How fascinating!

"This is truly incredible," I murmur. "You should not be ashamed. Not at all."

"Hmph," Albel scoffs, "I'd rather have the flesh than the metal."

"Well naturally," I reply, "but I'm sure you'd rather have the metal than nothing at all."

Albel makes a strange, annoyed sound in the back of his throat. "What exactly are you getting at, fool? No matter how you look at it, I'm a freak! End of discussion!"

I smile sadly at him. "You're not."

Looking at him, at this moment, I want to tell him he's beautiful. And he is. Albel Nox is the most savagely sensual man I've ever seen. I know it should freak me out, this strange attraction of mine, but it doesn't.

Albel lightly shakes the prosthetic arm out of my grip and turns away. "Whatever. Go to bed, maggot. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."

I sigh as I go back across the room to the bed I would be sleeping in tonight. I turn off the light on the bedside table and drift off into an uneasy dreamland of dragon lords and melancholy warriors.

_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

With all the idiots shuffled off into separate rooms, I decide I want to pay that little blue-haired fool a visit. I have to speak with one of the ship's crew members in order to find his room, but it seems that a commanding presence is universally acknowledged. Nonetheless, I feel slightly on edge. This is all too strange. To imagine people who can freely travel the skies boggles my mind.

I need to be with someone familiar right now. The others are either intolerable or strangers to me. I...like Fayt. He's such a strange boy, trying to befriend a creature such as myself. He actually tries to understand and even relate to me and the scary thing is, I'm starting to enjoy it. So few make the effort and even they keep me at arm's length. I think...that he might actually accept me. He's not afraid of me or even that much in awe of me. It feels odd to think that someone might enjoy my company. I am, after all, terrible company. Perhaps he likes the challenge.

It would explain why he treats that Sophia girl like a little sister even as her eyes sparkle with her adoration of him. She is no challenge, no prize to be won. If he wanted her, all he'd have to do is crook a finger at her and she'd come running. He is surrounded by people who would die for him but not a one who would kill for him. This I can do; this I will do should anyone threaten a hair on his head. It should come to no surprise that this bothers me.

When I find his room I am confronted with a panel. It is a flat screen with strange graphic buttons on it. I touch the large red one and after a moment I'm rewarded with the sound of Fayt's voice coming from a strange device on the panel.

"Who is it?"

"Let me in, you idiot," I snarl.

Fayt sighs softly, "Hang on Albel."

The door slides open by itself and I step into Fayt's room. It instantly slides shut behind me. I prickle at the vague sense of being trapped, but quickly push it aside.

"What do you want?" Fayt asks. He is sitting in his bed and looking disheveled and slightly wearied. I am taken somewhat aback. He is rarely seen as anything but optimistic, eager, and determined. This is the boy who looked me in the eye and refused to back down from my threats.

This was also a young man who had lost his father to violence. I had experience in that department. Much as I approve of Maria pushing Fayt to put his grief aside for the sake of their mission, I know it must be eating him up inside.

"It occurs to me I never offered my condolences for your father's death," I tell him stiffly.

His expression softens. "Thank you. That means a lot to me, Albel."

I clear my throat as I step closer to Fayt's bed. "I too lost my father when I was only a few years younger than you."

Fayt's eyes are warm with not sympathy but empathy. "Does it ever get better?"

"No," I say. "Every day I miss him and hate that I'd not been able to save him."

"How did he die?" Fayt asks.

Panic seizes me for a moment. Do I want to share my most shameful failure to him? It is disturbing to realize that I did.

"Did you know that I was supposed to take control of the dragon brigade after my father retired from the military?" I ask him conversely.

"You know...I always wondered about that. Why was Vox the general since you were the obvious heir to the position?"

"I failed a ceremony to become part of the dragon brigade. Quite badly in fact," I explain bluntly.

"Really?" Fayt is obviously skeptical. It makes the telling of the end of the story a bit easier.

"Yes. I was...young and overconfident. I did not understand the fundamental bond between the soldier and his dragon. It is like when we defeated The Marquis. We did not tame him; we earned his respect. Back then...I believed that I could just tame a dragon through sheer force of will. That was not to be. The creature was enraged at my audacity that I demanded its servitude. He tried to kill me, but my father shielded me and bore the brunt of its fire breath. My arm was caught in the inferno and all I remember is screaming along with my father. Eventually his stopped but mine did not until I finally passed out from the intense pain. I should have died that day."

"Who saved you?" Fayt asks breathily.

"For some reason the soldiers that had escorted us took me back to Kirlsa, although by all right they should have left me to perish. That is how it is supposed to work. If you fail the ceremony, it is usually because the dragon killed you."

He surprises me when he gets up from his bed and hugs me. No one has even attempted to touch me in years and the feel of his body against me is very odd. My skin crawls a little at the sensation of his embrace, though it is not entirely unpleasant.

"Oh Albel, I'm so sorry!" Fayt exclaims.

He doesn't break the hold for a long while and I find myself relaxing into his touch. I can't deny that it feels good. The long forgotten ghost of desire stirs in me, but I can't even consider that right now.

"It's not your fault," Fayt whispers, breath warm against my ear.

I place my good hand on the back of his neck. Fayt's skin is soft and his hair is silky beneath my fingertips. In the darkest corner of my mind, I long to devour him. My mind dwells on carnal fantasies about what Fayt's body might feel like nude and straining with lust beneath me, what his mouth would taste like, how he would look as I fuck him. I close my eyes, trying to will away these intense, nearly foreign feelings.

"Perhaps," I reply in a voice gone husky with my barely reigned surge of lust, "You are not to blame either."

"I know," Fayt looks into my face and his gaze is soft and languid. My heart begins to pound as his face moves closer to mine. The fool was going to kiss me!

Startled, I push him away hastily. Even though I'd been thinking about it, that doesn't mean I am ready to enact it!

"What in hell are you doing?" I bark defensively.

"Ah sorry," Fayt looks sheepish. "It's just...um, I think I like you."

"I see," I scowl.

"Sorry, sorry," Fayt is blushing intensely and it weakens even my resolve. "I'll never do it again."

"Well now..." I narrow my eyes at him, "Let's not be too hasty in that decision."

Fayt sucks in a sharp breath and looks surprised. I can't help but smirk at him. Tentatively, I reach out my real hand and place it against the side of his face. He leans into my touch and arches his throat as I stroke my fingers along the side of his neck. So trusting. I could snap his neck right now but the thought carries little weight with me for a multitude of reasons. For one, I am trapped on a ship traversing the heavens and another, there are several people on this vessel that would kill me for such a transgression. Anyway, I rather like this. His skin is warm and his expression is alluring. He wants this; he wants me and even though it's astounding, I am not truly made of stone. Fayt would let me kiss me. He would probably turn wanton under my touch. Perhaps he would even beg for his release if I teased him.

"Be patient," I drawl darkly.

"Okay," Fayt gasps.

"I'm going," I announce awkwardly.

"Alright," Fayt nods, "The door's open. If you approach it, it'll move aside automatically."

How novel. It does exactly that and I quickly enter the hallway outside of his room. My mind swims with what had transpired. I must confess intimate affairs are not exactly something I am terribly experienced with. I am not the romantic warrior women seem to want and I am too harsh and demanding for most men. They get caught up by my fair face and are blind-sided by the brutality of my passion. I imagine Fayt to be as hungry to touch me as I him.

This is getting complicated. I have to consider if these emotions are worth the trouble. Fayt's companions would not approve of this affair. Would he allow them to influence him and if he did, could I really deal with the fallout? No, I don't think I can lose another person that I care about. Everybody leaves in the end. I am too harsh a man for such relationships.

I try to push my burgeoning affection for Fayt away. It is dangerous in a way that I cannot fight. My sword does no good when it comes to feelings.

Would it be that I could cut them out. Life would be so much less complicated if every human interaction were as simple as battle.

_TBC..._


	3. Chapter 3

"We could just take Sophia and leave you know," Maria tells me.

We are sitting together in Moonbase's recreational hall and watching the others. Sophia and Peppita are talking, Cliff is napping, and Albel is...well, he actually appears to be meditating, but I have a hard time believing he's the type. I consider Maria's suggestion, but quickly reject it.

"No way," I reply with a shake of my head.

"Why not?" Maria asked conversely. "I'm sure your father never expected us to have an entourage. Anyone else coming with us would be signing their death sentence."

"No," I reply, "The more people with us, the better chance we have of surviving. Anyway, do you really think we can protect Sophia on our own?"

"True. Cliff will be an asset and Mirage has been making noises about joining us in battle. What about him?" Maria gestured at Albel.

"What _about _him?" I demand. "Albel is a great fighter!"

"Don't you think it's cruel to allow him to come along? He has no grasp of what is going on," Maria points out coolly.

"That's not fair. Albel is very smart, you know," I protest.

"His deductive reasoning is sound, I'll give him that much, but Fayt, he could die. Are you really ok with that?"

Her question silences me. Of course I don't want Albel to die, but I want even less to take him back to Elicoor.

"Well, let's go ask him," I offer a compromise.

"Fine," Maria huffs.

We cross the hall together and approach Albel. His eyes open as we walk up to him and he rises to meet us. He attaches his scabbard to his obi and watches us warily.

"May I help you?" He drawls, the edge of mockery in his tone undermines the civility of his words.

"Do you understand the severity of the situation?" Maria asks without much subtlety.

Albel's eyes narrow and he tilts his head. He is clearly insulted by the question. "Your mission has changed. Before, it was to locate Fayt's father. Given his untimely death, you decided to come here in order to find out what he was studying. The man and his associates had discovered a gate to another world and the voice of a creator that had proclaimed this...galaxy's doom. The two of you and the idiot girl in pink have powers that will aid in this...creator's defeat. Now the mission is to confront this creator and his minions."

Maria is silent and I shoot her a quick, knowing glance. Albel is very observant. I can't help but wonder if perhaps he spied for his country at times. The man doesn't miss a beat.

"Then I presume that you understand that there is no guarantee that you will return to your planet alive," Maria holds his gaze in a manner that is almost challenging.

"Yes," Albel replies, "I do not care. If it is my fate to die, I wish to die in battle. Anyway, how can I go back to Airyglyph knowing all the fun I'll be missing?"

"This isn't a game, Albel!" Maria snaps.

"I'm aware," Albel smirks, "Like it or not you worms are stuck with me. Get used to it."

Maria groans and throws her hands up in exasperation. She looks at Albel, then to me. "How do you put up with him? It's like talking to a wall!"

She stomps off without hearing my answer and I am left with Albel, who looks terribly pleased with himself.

"You shouldn't rile her up so much," I sigh.

"Someone needs to knock her down a peg and since you won't do it, I have no problem with it," Albel replies in a languid, insolent tone.

"Albel..."

"Don't start with me. I tolerate the wench because she's got a brain to go with that sharp tongue, but I'll not have her treat me like an idiot savage."

"Okay, but you understand why she was asking those questions, right?" I ask as tactfully as I can.

"Of course," Albel replies flippantly, "I'd expect nothing less from anyone in her position."

"Then why did you give her all that attitude?" I ask incredulously.

"Because it amused me."

I groan, and am not really sure if I want to kiss this infuriating man or kill him. He drives me absolutely insane but I guess that's part of the charm. I turn away from him to go back to Maria and maybe vent a little, but Albel grabs my arm.

"Make no mistake; I understand what I'm getting into. Somebody has to keep you safe and I don't trust those idiots to do the job right."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at them," Albel orders and I quickly do. "The lot of them would fall on their weapons if it would keep you safe. I will do no such thing. What I _will_ do is slaughter anything that gets in our way."

I shiver. His intensity is magnetic; my mouth has gone dry; I stare into his unnerving eyes and feel my heart pound. Lust, there is no other word for this thing between us and it is nearly agonizing. For a moment I wish I could feel the same thing for Sophia or Maria. It would make my life so much easier. Yet I do not, and this is where I stand: On the precipice of fear and desire as I look into Albel's crimson gaze.

"It seems we have company," Albel murmurs before Sophia's voice cuts through the thick tension between us.

"Hey!" She exclaims, "Are you bothering Fayt!"

I cringe inwardly. Sophia stands next to us with her hands on her hips. She's frowning at Albel and I pray he spares her his acidic tongue.

"I am," Albel smirks, "but I don't think he minds all that much, do you, _Fayt_?"

I feel my face heat up. He's teasing me and the way he said my name was entirely too intimate. God, I can't do this right now.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sophia demands.

Albel just laughs and walks away. I'm relieved that he hadn't verbally abused Sophia to tears, but more than just a little freaked out by his borderline flirtatious behaviour just now. I want to go after him and ask what the hell that had been about, but hang back, sure he'll just turn it into a verbal sparring match. Much as I enjoy them, I'm in no mood now.

"What is _up _withthat guy?" Sophia shakes her head.

I rub the back of my neck and look away from Sophia's perplexed expression. "It's complicated."

_TBC..._


	4. Chapter 4

"Three rooms? Why do we need three rooms?" Clif protests.

Fayt looks at him blandly. His optimistic facade is cracking. "I want to some time to myself."

The blonde maggot scoffs, "No way I'm shacking up with him for the night." He gestures to me irritably.

"That's fine," Fayt replies calmly, "Albel can room with me."

In the pregnant silence, they stare at us. I bristle, imagining that they can see into our secret hearts. What is between us is our business alone.

"Alright," Cliff sighs, "I guess I can't complain, getting my own room and all. I suppose Albel's company ain't much different from being alone."

I sneer at him and turn away from their prying eyes. If they know, I couldn't care less. All I want is to get Fayt alone so I can ascertain his current state of mind. I find it strange that he play acts for the others, but is always true with me.

"If we're done bickering, I'm exhausted," Maria announces with great annoyance. "Can I please get our keycard?"

We go our separate ways and Fayt walks in silence by my side. I glance over at him and scowl. He looks drained. I shake my head angrily and walk a little faster to hurry him along. He gives too much to maggots that deserve nothing but his contempt.

When we get to our room, Fayt waves the card at the panel and the door opens automatically. I step inside and access the room. It is adequate aside from the strange capsules the innkeeper had mentioned. Thankfully, there is a large daybed. Though that might create a problem considering there is only one and we've never shared a bed before.

I hear the door close with a soft hiss and speak without turning. "How do these idiots sleep in those contraptions?"

Fayt's hand on my good arm causes me to turn and I find myself being embraced. His mouth closes over mine and I am lost. Fayt's lips are hot and sweet, and I am instantly addicted to his taste. I kiss him back, greedy for the touch. It has been too long and this desire is too great for me to deny.

Nonetheless, I grab a fistful of hair at the back of his head and pull him back to look into his face. He moans softly, from pain or passion, I know not which. Fayt is flushed and wanton, but his eyes are disturbed. There is desperation wrapped up in the heat of his gaze that does not sit right with me.

I shove him up against the wall and this time the grunt elicited was one of pain. He looks at me with an annoyed expression. "Take it easy. I've never done this before."

His confession gives me the resolve I need to go on. "Do you really want this?"

"What do you mean?" Fayt furrows his brow.

I stroke fingertips along his mouth and watch his eyes grow dark with desire. Ah, that's a better reaction. He whimpers softly as I caress the side of his face. My heart is pounding as I cling to my willpower. Dammit, this boy is dangerous for no other reason than the way he makes me feel.

"Does this have anything to do with the brat who told us that ridiculous story?" I ask.

He deflates and I know I hit a nerve. "Yeah."

"I see," I murmur as I drop my hand and step slightly back from him. "Do explain."

Fayt sighs and covers his face with hand. "Ah...I wanted to..."

"Spit it out," I snap angrily.

"I wanted to feel alive ok?" Fayt shoots back, just as angrily. "Do you understand what we were told by Flad?"

"Utter nonsense, I'm sure," I scoff.

"I...I don't think it is," Fayt replies. "We're..._data_, but how...how can that be so?"

His eyes are shiny with unshed tears and I give into the urge to pull him into my arms. "So what if we are? As far as I can tell, we're more alive than these 4D beings."

Fayt doesn't reply and after a moment I realize he's sobbing. Anyone else, I would have shoved away and verbally humiliated but I figure Fayt deserves it. He is understandably overwhelmed. Perhaps if I had truly grasped what the green haired brat said, I would be just as distraught. Ignorance may indeed be bliss in this case.

"Sorry. You must think I'm pathetic," Fayt says in a low, emotionally raw tone.

I stroke his hair and do not answer. It does not matter if I think he's pathetic. For once, I rein in my cruelty and hold my tongue. Instead I rub his back in comforting circles. It's strange to be in this position and I want to laugh.

Fayt pulls away when he's done crying. He sniffles and rubs his eyes, trying to look stoic but instead looks like the troubled teenager that he is. With a small sigh, I push him toward the day bed.

"Get some sleep, idiot," I tell him, "You'll feel better after you've rested."

XxXxX

_In my dreams I am usually fourteen. Dressed in the supple leather armour of a soldier of the dragon brigade, I stand before a great dragon. It is laughing at me._

_"To think that the great Glou Nox would raise such an impudent son! How disappointing."_

_"You dare mock me, you overgrown worm!" I rage, oh how I'd raged back then._

_"Albel!" My father hisses as he grabs my arm._

_I shake him off and step closer to the dragon and draw my sword. "I see your kind isn't as sensible or wise as I'd been led to believe. You leave me no choice but to beat sense into your scaly hide!"_

_"Know your place human!" The dragon snarls as it inhales deeply._

I struggle back to consciousness, willing myself out of the dream. Waking with a harsh gasp, I grip the sword in my lap and try to stifle the scream crawling up my throat. It comes out as a long, low moan instead.

I quickly realize that I'm alone. Fayt had taken the bed while I'd insisted on sleeping on the floor. After Fayt's kiss, I decided that sharing a bed was a very poor idea. Quite frankly, I didn't trust myself and him even less. He is in a vulnerable state of mind and while I don't begrudge him that, I feel like sex is the last thing he needs. Someone to hold him, perhaps, but I am not the sort of man you turn to for cuddling.

The bed is empty now, and his clothes and weapon are gone. I worry that perhaps he did something rash and quickly make my way out into the city. There is no one about, which I suppose is just as well. The people are strange here; they stare and whisper nonsense about their Eternal Sphere. I wander for the moment, trying to figure out where Fayt could have gone. I comb each district with my good hand resting on the hilt of my sword.

Eventually I find him standing in front of the display through which we'd entered. He is watching images move across it. I don't say a word as I step up beside him. He looks absolutely distraught.

"If I am a program, does that mean everything that has happened to me was pre-determined?" Fayt asks softly.

"Hmph," I scoff softly, "Of course not. That strange boy said as much. Did he not say that he can't control us?"

"True, but that just means we're NPCs. I wonder...how many people have I met who were players?" Fayt muses.

"Who cares? It's not as though we're actually meeting them," I dismiss coolly.

Fayt gives me a quick look that's shaded with surprise and approval. "I guess that's true. It just sort of freaks me out that I might have spoken with who befriended people who were...being controlled by someone in a virtual space."

"Do you know what I think?"

"What?"

"Your prattling is meaningless," I tell him, "We are alive regardless of our origin. As far as I am concerned. I am still the son of Glou and Eliza Nox."

Fayt shakes his head, "You never cease to amaze me."

I smirk, "Have you finally realized my superiority?"

"Shut up," Fayt replies without heat, "You know what I mean."

"Hm," I grunt and watch the stars shimmer on the screen. The silence that stretches between is not awkward. He moves a little closer to me before speaking again.

"Albel?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm falling for you," Fayt replies so sincerely I want to smack him.

"Tch," I cluck my tongue with disgust that I don't truly feel, "You're a fool."

I turn away from him and spare him a withering glance over my shoulder. "I'm returning to the inn. I suggest you accompany me otherwise I might break that cursed panel with my sword."

I have feelings for Fayt, strong ones, but I'm not ready to deal with them. He should, by all right, hate and fear me; he should be mistrustful of me. This new revelation disturbs me and yet I am secretly overjoyed. My emotions are in turmoil, but when I look back at Fayt he appears serene.

_TBC_...


	5. Chapter 5

Near dawn, I sit on the grass in the plains outside of Peterny. I keep on stroking the green blades, examining them. If I look at it long enough will I see the hard edges of virtual image? If I pick the vegetation will it vanish?

My thoughts are wild. I try to think about any strange instances that would have revealed that I am living in a virtual reality. I know what glitches look like, but I can't think of a single thing off hand. It frightens me.

I wish I could be like Albel. He thinks it's irrelevant and maybe it is. Philosophers have been trying to figure out the meaning of life for decades and I've discovered the answer. There's no great mystery. No voices in the sky. It's pretty depressing.

I lay back and feel the dew dampen my skin and hair. It disturbs me that nothing feels different. The virtual reality games I've played for most of my life has nothing on this Eternal Sphere. They were advanced but most of the physical sensations felt contrived. Pain never lingered, the elements were brief, and only the best games featured substantial contact with NPCs.

This is on another level entirely. It is real. Being in Arkives had felt no different than this. Kissing Albel...kissing Albel...had been...

My thoughts scatter, at once lost to the memory of that one kiss. The taste of him; the smell of him; the feel of his body pressed against mine. Those memories are etched into my brain. If I am a program, they're all just data in a file. Can someone just...go to a computer console and check out my stats? Can they access my memories? The idea is pretty chilling. All I can picture is crowd of programmers watching scenes from my life and commenting like they're watching a movie.

Well, I suppose I'll find out soon enough. The creator will reveal all, I'm sure. A part of me doesn't want to know.

XxXxX

Peppita and Sophia are sparring. I fret as I watch Sophia jog around the designated battlefield, trying to put some space between herself and Peppita. Despite her outward appearance, it's pretty clear that Sophia is not exactly in the best of shape. She's slow and somewhat clumsy. I suppose since she's not a fighter like Cliff or Albel it won't matter but I worry about her not being able to get out of the way.

By contrast, Peppita is graceful and surprisingly adept at turning her art as a dancer into martial skills. I'm glad I'd allowed her to come with us. Even Albel seems to grudgingly approve of her.

Maria sighs beside me, "It's going to take so much work to get her up to speed."

Cliff strokes his chin thoughtfully, "We could always make some kind of charm to help with her reflexes."

"Hmph," Albel scoffs, "She'll never learn if you give her a crutch."

"Says the man wearing bunny shoes," Cliff drawls.

Albel sniffs dismissively, "There is no crime for a warrior to use enchantment to enhance the skills he already possesses."

"I could teach her some old sprinting exercises I used to do before basketball games," I point out.

"And we'll put a ring of haste on her," Cliff adds insistently.

Albel rolls his eyes and groans. Peppita and Sophia are running out of steam. Sophia is complaining of a headache and Peppita is starting to feel bad.

"Ok, fine," Peppita sighs, "Let's just call it a draw."

"Tch," Albel mutters, "It's clear the dancing girl won."

"Hush," I scold.

"Piss off," Albel replies without much harshness, "If amateur hour is over, I should like to challenge you to a duel."

He's looking at me greedily. Bloodlust mingles up with...well, lust-lust, and I feel a little strange. Should we be doing this in front of the others? Of course I was being ridiculous. It's not like he'd proposed sex, but sparring with Albel is always on a completely different level than with-say-Cliff. We play for keeps and it gets a little violent, and I can just imagine Sophia freaking out if Albel draws a little blood. Yet I know I can't deny him. Fighting him is just too much fun.

"Sounds great," I nod and we separate from the others as Sophia and Peppita joins the group.

"Ooh," I hear Peppita practically squeal, "This should be good!"

Sophia sounds uncertain and then I forget everyone else because Albel is getting into position. He looks like a snake ready to strike and I'm his prey. Well, I won't make it easy for him. I never do.

"No energy attacks or magic," I lay out the rules.

Albel nods briefly, "Agreed."

He charges me quickly, starting the match aggressively. I hear a gasp from someone in our little audience before I get my sword up to block his attack. Metal on metal shrieks as it connects and Albel grins. He's toying with me. I use the little bit of weight I have on him to push him back.

"Be serious," I taunt him, "Or do you _want_ me to win?"

Albel's eyes flash fire and his grin turns nasty. "You'll regret allowing my strength to flourish. I'll be on top by the time this match is over!"

I wonder if he knows how bad that just sounded. My mind threatens to wander and I stare at Albel's sword extra hard to try to dispel images of Albel being...well, on top. This tension between us is really adding a new layer to our sparring.

The match lasts for a long time. We're more or less evenly matched when we aren't using energy or magic. Albel's a bit faster and more agile, and he has more finesse. His great weakness is that he has a bad tendency to leave himself open during critical moments in battle. He would say that mine is my mercy.

We're drenched with sweat as our blows become more decisive. I'm tired. So is Albel, though he'd never admit it. His reaction time is slowing down, not by much, but maybe enough for me to exploit it.

He raises his arms to deliver a punishing blow and in a split second I make a decision. I drop my sword and grab his arms as he brings them down. Using his momentum against him, I use a throwing technique I'd learned ages ago in a self-defense class. Albel tries to fight it and we end up falling together, tumbling over and over in the soft grass. Somewhere in the scuffle, Albel loses his sword and he scrambles to take control of our positions. His raw strength sometimes surprises me and I find myself being straddled by him. Albel's eyes are alight with malicious humor.

"That was a neat trick, maggot," He grins wickedly. "However, it seems that my prediction was quite accurate."

His gloating is insufferable but I'm all too aware of the others watching us. If we were alone, it would be a completely different story. We'd probably be fighting for another hour or until we were completely exhausted.

Or maybe we wouldn't be fighting at all. Albel isn't getting up and I grow uncomfortable in my awareness of his body. Judging from the heaviness in his gaze, he's feeling the same thing.

"I really wanna kiss you," I tell him quietly.

"The feeling's mutual. Perhaps a re-match is in order. Without an audience, of course," Albel drawls.

"Definitely," I grin.

Cliff's voice breaks the spell and I turn my head to look at the others. They look uncomfortable but maybe I'm just projecting.

"Ok," Cliff calls, "You want to call that a draw or what?"

"A draw?" Albel exclaims and gets up to confront Cliff. "Are you joking? He may have put me on the ground but I clearly overpowered him!"

As they argue, I get up. I brush grass off my clothes and shake it out of my hair. For the most part, I'm uninjured. A few bruises here and there, but that's about it. Not bad for a sparring match with Albel the Wicked.

_TBC_...


	6. Chapter 6

_This chapter kind of bridges chapter 5 and 7. I was kind of at a loss where to go with this chapter and wanted to move away from Albel's chapters being so...shippy. Not that there's anything wrong with that..._

She is standing away from the rest of the group and fussing with a strange device. The others are pausing to eat or use potions for rejuvenation. She watches us in amazement and I finally decide to approach her with a few questions.

"Simply astonishing," She's murmuring. "They shouldn't be able to restore their health with items from the Eternal Sphere!"

I ignore her babbling and stand boldly before her. "Blair is it?"

"Yes," She replies, meeting my gaze frankly.

"Do you know who I am?" I demand.

"You're Albel Nox, otherwise known as Albel the Wicked, largely due to your ruthlessness toward your enemies and cruel demeanor. You're captain of Black Brigade, though you were briefly stripped of you rank when falsely accused of treason by Duke Vox."

I'm more than just a little bit stunned. She looks amused by my obvious shock. "Well, it's a rare treat to have surprised the great and worldly Albel Nox."

Affronted by her faintly mocking tone, I glower at her. "If it didn't appear that we needed your help, I'd have slit your throat for such a remark," I drawl casually.

"I know," Blair smiles faintly.

"Hmph! What else do you know about me?"

"Nearly everything. Of course there are complex algorithms and scripts that are difficult for even the best programmer to read, usually the ones representing a character's most personal thought, feelings, and some memories."

I sigh, more out of annoyance than any real anger. "What in hell are you prattling on about?"

"Forgive me. That is to say, I can't know what you're thinking from minute to minute. Knowing your personality, I could probably guess, but anyone who knows you well enough could do that."

I neglect to point out that very, very few people know me well enough to predict my thoughts or emotions. "Fair enough. So tell me something you know about my life."

Blair frowns. "Why are you doing this, Albel? Surely you can't deny we are your creators. I think seeing Gemity would have driven that fact home."

"Humour me," I reply coolly.

"Very well. What do you wish me to tell you? Perhaps the name of the first person you killed? It was Arturus, a soldier in the Black Brigade. You were appointed captain of the unit, despite not being a current member. Many soldiers were very angry and claimed you had gained the position due to the fact that Glou Nox had been a very dear friend of your king. They believed Shelby should have been promoted. When you first met with your unit as commander, Arturus challenged your worthiness and demanded a duel. You beat him soundly and when he was down, begging for his life, you beheaded him."

I nod slowly, remembering the situation well. The worm had been sobbing like a child at my feet. I'd killed him without mercy or regret. Afterwards, I'd placed his head on a large table used for maps and tactical schemes.

'Does anyone else wish to challenge my authority here?' I'd snarled and had been met by silence, even from Shelby.

"You've made your point."

"You know, I'm surprised to see you with this group," Blair smiles faintly. "I think...it could be good for you."

"Hmph," I sniff, "I was growing bored."

"Look alive you two!" The blonde maggot shouts. "We're going!"

I snort and shout back at him as I turn away from Blair. "It's about time you worms stopped stuffing your faces!"

She gently touches my elbow and I look at her, a bit startled. "One more thing. Stop punishing yourself, Albel. He did what any good father would do."

"Tch," I sneer, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

XxXxX

For a second there, I'd accomplished something great.

It had felt good to watch the destruction of those Executioners, knowing I'd had a hand in it. All those stars swirling above my head, saved by my merciless sword.

Of course it hadn't lasted. Nothing resembling happiness or satisfaction ever did. If nothing else, things were worse. How stupid were we to think it would be that simple?

Maria's talking on her communication device and I'm thinking about the future. A part of me had not expected to ever return to my homeland. Perhaps I'd imagined that I would travel with these idiots forever, or at least a certain blue-haired idiot.

I can hear Maria's voice in the distance, though I can't make out what she's saying. She sounds relieved, so I'm guessing that means we'll be off this rock soon. We're going back to my world and I know deep in my heart that there is something I must do once I get back home. The king no doubt wonders what has happened to me, but more importantly, it's time to claim my birthright.

_TBC_...


End file.
